


The Appeal of Bad Poetry

by seraphic_gate



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphic_gate/pseuds/seraphic_gate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rare night alone without any seraphim companions in his head, Sorey is joined by Mikleo, who can't bring himself to ask for what he wants out loud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Appeal of Bad Poetry

The temperature dropped after night fell, so Sorey opened the window a crack to freshen the stuffy room at the inn. His head was vacant of Seraphim at the moment. They'd given him a much needed reprieve from his duties as host, and elected to explore the city each on their own.

Sorey did appreciate it. The voices in his head at times became so overwhelming. Rose had also offered to give him some time to himself. He stood barefooted in the room with his cloak thrown over the edge of the bed, appreciating the flickering lights of the city below.

He turned at the sound of the door opening. Mikleo entered without knocking or announcing himself, and closed the door behind him.

“I was just starting to miss you,” Sorey said, with a beaming grin. He lifted a thick book from the nearby table and waved it at him. “Come on, you can help me review this volume of records I found.”

Sorey sat down on the edge of the bed and cracked the book in his lap. He patted the bedding next to him. Mikleo crossed his arms and stood hovering over him with a scowl on his face. “One night to ourselves, and you want to read something boring like that?”

Sorey closed the book and folded his hands over its cover. “You've got my full attention. What would you rather do?”

“Well.” He looked up at the ceiling at something that wasn't there, and covered his mouth with the palm of his hand. “It's not that I want to do anything specific. I just figured.”

“Come on and tell me, what did you figure?”

“It's just been such a long time.”

“Since what?”

“Since you know, stop pretending like you don't know.”

Sorey laughed. He took Mikleo's arm and pulled him close. “Sorry, you're just too easy to mess with.” He rest his head against Mikleo's shoulder. “It's all right.  I don't need anything but to be here with you right now.”

"Eh."  Mikleo still wasn't satisfied with the answer.  “Well it's not strictly a need, I wouldn't say. I just expected...”

Sorey pulled him away from himself only far enough to touch Mikleo's cheeks with his thumbs and brush his fingers through his bangs. Mikleo huffed in response to being petted, and stuck his nose up into the air.  

“Your face is so red.”  

“Seraphim don't need to-- I mean I don't-- It was only because you enjoyed it so much!”

Sorey pulled Mikleo tighter against him and curled his arms around his slender waist. As much as being host to Mikleo's spirit, and especially armatizing with him, lent its own intimacy, he missed the feeling of Mikleo's physical presence, his weight and mass, his scent like the moments before rain. He rubbed his nose against his neck and hoped to drown in him. “So you didn't enjoy any of that at all?” He let his lips brush against skin with the words.

A tiny whimper came from deep in Mikeo's chest. He cleared his throat. “That's not what I said.”

“So the mighty water seraph has urges after all?” Sorey laughed. He could feel Mikleo shudder in his arms from the sensation of breath on his skin. “I'll be happy to worship you, Lord Mikleo.”

“Stop,” Mikleo grumbled. “Stop teasing me.”

Sorey smoothed his hands up, over the breast of Mikleo's jacket, to his neck, then traced the lines of his jaw on both sides. He wove his hands through his hair, cool and silky between his fingers. Then he brought their faces close together, touching his forehead to Mikleo's.  “What do you want me to do?”

Mikleo's mouth twisted up into a grimace, his eyebrows furrowed, and he rest his head on top of Sorey's to where he couldn't see his face. “I can't say it.”

“You can't say, maybe, that I should take your clothes off?” He felt him nodding against the top of his head in response. “Hm, okay, okay.”

There were six buckles on either side of Mikleo's jacket. Sorey only bothered with one side, carefully threading the belts out of their loops. He felt Mikleo's body tense in his arms as he pretended to have so much trouble with the last one.

“I think it's stuck.”

“Let me do it, you ass.”

Sorey tried to suppress his laughter as Mikleo fell for it and feverishly attacked the last belt. If came undone easily. “What the? It's not stuck.”

“Oh, it's not?”

Mikleo glared at him as he peeled the loose article up over his shoulders, leaving his hair ruffled and his body bare and flushed. Sorey smiled up at him with all the adoration in his heart, and quelled his rage. Mikleo averted his eyes side to side, anywhere but directly back at Sorey, still feigning anger, but not very well.

“Here, turn this way.” He guided Mikleo to face away, and hugged him to his chest in a sitting position. As Mikleo cooperated, Sorey thought he caught just a glimmer of a smile. Encouraged, he laid a barrage of kisses over Mikleo's neck until he squeaked a swear and squirmed against him.

“Uhg, gross!”

Sorey grinned. “I have poetry for you, do you want to hear it?”

“Not really. Like, really, really not.”

“Oh, too bad, because you're gonna hear it.”

Sorey's lips brushed against the lobe of Mikleo's ear and closed around it. Mikleo sucked in breath and tried in vain not to let out a frustrated moan as Sorey nibbled at him.

He let Mikleo breathe for a moment, then spoke in a low tone against his ear. “Okay, here goes.” He took a deep breath. “The sounds I elicit, through your implicit specifics, are very explicit.”

There was another specific sound as Mikleo smacked his own forehead. “Are you serious?” Then he threw his head back against Sorey's shoulder and began to laugh so hard his chest heaved up and down. “That's awful, truly awful!”

With his back against his chest, Sorey could feel Mikleo's heart's pace increasing as he touched him. He traced his fingers over the slight protrusions of his slender frame, ribs just under the skin. A line drawn over the curve of his hip with the tip of Sorey's finger made Mikleo twitch and arc his back.

“Ticklish?”

“I'm not! You're just not taking care of your hands.”

“Sorry, are they rough?”

“They feel like sand paper.”

Sorey chuckled softly against his neck and kept kissing him. “Would you rather I didn't touch you?”

“I'll survive.”

“Oh, you will, huh?”

Mikleo snatched Sorey's right hand away from its current mission to unbutton his pants, and inspected it. “You've got callouses all over. I gave you a salve for this, did you even use it?”

“Oh, that.” Sorey grinned and rubbed the back of his head. “I thought I'd save it for um, you know, a special occasion.”

Mikleo's eyes narrowed and he turned to look over his shoulder back at Sorey. “I can't believe you.”

Sorey's hands went back to unfastening Mikleo's pants. As he pulled them down over his hips, he brushed up against the rigid bulge in Mikleo's undergarments. “I didn't realize it was so bad.”

“I don't normally get like this.” Mikleo's lower lip puffed out in disdain. “It's so inconvenient.”

“I must have rubbed off on you.”

“Is that supposed to be some kind of pun?”

“Nah, just--” He removed the last of Mikleo's clothing and tossed it aside. “Just relax, okay?”

Mikleo exhaled and let his weight sink into Sorey's body. Sorey felt the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling with each breath. “You smell nice,” Mikleo said. “For once.”

Sorey ignored him and leaned over to fish the vial of salve out his pouch. It was attached to the belt hanging over the chair by the bed. He uncorked it with one hand, holding Mikleo with the other. “For my rough hands,” he said, and massaged the substance between his fingers. It smelled of herbs and tingled on his skin. “You spoil me too much, you know?”

“I know tha—ah!” His words ended in a yelp as Sorey touched the tip of his cock with his hand covered in the salve. Slowly his shouting eased into a soft breathy sigh.

Sorey pressed his lips against Mikleo's cheek and closed his hand around the shaft. Mikleo's body twitched and curled in his arms as he tightened his grip and began to slide up and down the length of him. With the other arm, he steadied him, holding him tightly around the waist. With his head wresting on Mikleo's shoulder, Sorey could see every detail of Mikleo as he writhed in his arms and tried so hard not to moan out loud. His pale skin was flushed delicate pink and shimmered with sweat.

“It's not like anyone can hear you,” Sorey said, laughing again. “You can let it out.”

Mikleo responded with indignant whimpering. “You think this is funny, don't you?”

“No, no,” Sorey said, with as much softness in his voice as he could express. He kissed the side of Mikleo's face through his hair. “I'm laughing because I'm just happy I get to touch you again. I love touching you like this. You get so--”

A wild hand in his face cut him off. “Ah please stop, I don't want to come yet. If you say things like that, I'm going to--”

Sorey stopped moving his hand and took Mikleo's instead. He turned him in his lap and looked into his face. “What do you want to do?”

“Eh,” Mikleo's eyes darted left and right. “I guess...”

“You really can't say it, huh?”

“I'm working on it, just give me a minute.”

Sorey leaned in close and whispered into his ear. “Do you want me to put my cock in you?”

Mikleo went rigid and became non-verbal for a moment. Slowly, sputtering sounds came back to him. “H-how can you just say something like that?”

“I guess I'm honest that way.”

Mikleo scoffed. “You always were.”

“So, do you?”

Mikleo shifted his weight and straddled Sorey's lap. Sorey felt his arms circling his shoulders and breathed deeply as their foreheads touched.

“Yeah.”

Sorey kissed him deeply, letting their mouths take each other's shape. Mikleo rarely responded to the wet, sloppy, reckless kind of kiss that Sorey so often wanted to give him, but he didn't seem to care this time. They each forgot to breath and at once inhaled hasty breaths with their noses buried in the other's cheek without letting go.

Sorey placed a hand on Mikleo's chin and pulled their faces apart. Mikleo looked back at him with wide eyes. “What is it?”

“Nothing's wrong, I just,” Sorey thought this was awkward, now that he'd finally gotten Mikleo to unwind. “I can't get my pants off with you sitting on me like this.”

“Oh.”

Mikleo picked his legs up and stood by the bed. He watched from a side-eye glance through bashful fingers at Sorey peeling of his shirt, pants, and then his underwear.

Sorey's cheeks felt warm where he was sure he was blushing. Not as much as Mikleo, still. He took Mikleo's hand. “Come on, let's try that again.”

He sat and helped Mikleo onto his lap. Mikleo's bare thighs glided over his skin. He sat legs straddled over Sorey's lap, giving him an inch or two of height over him for a change. Sorey liked looking up into his eyes, but found Mikleo's expression uncertain. “Like this? Will it work like this?”

“You'll tell me if it's no good,” he said. “Won't you? Come on, let's just try it.”

He found the bottle of salve again and re-applied it to his fingers. Mikleo rose up on his knees, knowing what he was about to do. Sorey held him close, feeling down the center of his back to the part of his cheeks. He felt the cleft of his tail bone and felt carefully for his anus.

Mikleo hummed softly in his ear as he inserted a finger and moved it around. It wasn't their first time, but Sorey still didn't know exactly where everything was. He made sure the lubrication covered him liberally inside until his finger slipped in and out with little resistance, and tested pressing in every direction while observing Mikleo's face.

Then with two fingers he stretched him a little farther. Mikleo still was breathing heavily and making low murmers against his neck, so all was well. He dug in as deep as he could, burying his fingers up to the palm. Mikleo shuddered and squeezed his neck tight.

“Now, now, I want it now.”

“Oh, all of the sudden it's not so hard to tell me?”

“Shut up.”

He put either hand onto Mikleo's hips. “Help me out a little,” he said. “You know I have no idea what I'm doing right?”

“You never do.”

Their banter seemed to calm Mikleo down. His body loosened up in Sorey's arms. He put his weight into his knees on either side of Sorey and lowered himself into the right spot.

Sorey gasped out loud as the tip of his cock touched Mikleo's bare skin. “Oh man,” he sighed, and brushed his hand through his hair.

“I haven't done anything yet.”

“I know, it's just, ah--”

Mikleo pushed himself harder onto Sorey's cock until the head was inside of him.

“You were saying?”

Sorey's brain lost its ability to put words together. He felt dazed and starry already, and they had barely started. He worried that he wouldn't last.

Mikleo leaned in close and kissed his neck. Then Sorey felt a sharp pain as Mikleo bit him hard. He cried out.

“Anyone can hear _you_ , you know?”

“God damn it Mikleo.”

Mikleo was smiling. “Just helping you focus.”

“Oh gee, thanks.”

But he had to admit, it worked. That surging feeling died down a bit, and he could really enjoy himself.  Sorey tightened his grip on Mikleo's hips and pushed harder into him. Mikleo moaned sweet utterances into his ear which were impossible to translate, except for his name. “Sorey.”

Sorey had trouble keeping his voice down too, as his cock slid up into Mikleo's body, and their thighs met. He squeezed Mikleo in his arms so tightly, he worried some of the noises coming out of him were in pain.

“What are you stopping for?” Mikleo gasped. “Keep going.” Not pain, then.

Sorey did as he was told and pulled out. He slipped in and out of Mikleo effortlessly. “That's so good,” he said, as he found a nice, gentle, rhythm. “You're so tight and slick inside, I can't--”  Mikleo bit him again, this time on the ear, but he didn't stop his pace. He pumped their bodies together, savoring every one of the breathy moans that spilled out of Mikleo with each motion.

“It feels good for me, too," Mikleo said.  "This is a good angle. Not too deep, but you don't seem to mind.”

If he'd managed to convince Mikleo that he'd wanted it less, that illusion was gone now. He thrust into Mikleo desperately, clawing at him, crying his name and other less meaningful words like “God” or “yes” and “please.”

When Sorey came, he shook so hard that Mikleo cried out and he was afraid again that he'd hurt him. But Mikleo continued to rock back and forth on him, riding it out until he was completely done.

Sorey fell back flat on the bed limp, ears ringing. “Holy shit.”

Mikleo got into the bed on hands and knees over him, obscuring his view of the ceiling still filled with sparkling dots in his vision. “I guess that means I win this one.”

“You're awfully cocky for somebody who couldn't even ask.”

“Hm, and you lose gracefully.”

Sorey grinned and scooped Mikleo up. He turned him over and dropped him flat on his back into the bed so hard that the floorboards creaked underneath them. “Oh, you're so asking for it.”

“What are you going to do?”

“First.” He pulled the washcloth down from the basin next to the bed, nearly toppling the water. “Let's clean you up.”

“Oh no, Sorey, that's humiliating.”

“But, I need you clean down here for certain ah... applications.”

“Oh, fine.”

Sorey wiped him, soaking up the semen dripping from inside him, until he was pristine again. Mikleo tolerated this at best, refusing to look at him while it was being done.

He opened his eyes wide when Sorey lifted one leg over his shoulder and licked him there. “What are you doing?”

Sorey looked up over the hills of his body from between his legs.  “Isn't it good?”

“Well, yeah, but,” Mikleo was covering his face again. “Isn't it gross?”

“Nah. You won after all, so don't you want a reward?”

Mikleo laid his head back, resigned.  “I suppose it does feel good, after all that ungraceful pounding.”

Sorey couldn't retort, since his tongue was half inserted into Mikleo's butthole. Mikleo began to flail and whimper again as he moved his tongue, throwing his arms above his head and curling his toes.  "Ah, that's so weird!"

Sorey pulled his face away to speak.  "You seem to like it."

"I suppose," Mikleo tried to say, but he was breathing fast and gripping at the sheets too much to feign disinterest.

He pulled out and briefly turned his attention to the area underneath Mikleo's little coin purse of a ball sack, massaging it until Mikleo was biting his lips. Then he licked up the shaft of his penis and around the head. He thought he'd make Mikleo sorry for all those quips about winning, and gently gnawed at him with the barest edge of his teeth.

“Fuck.”

Sorey laughed with his mouth still partially filled with Mikleo's cock, to hear a work like that come out of him. “How ungraceful, for a lord of water.”

“Shut up you idiot!” He grabbed the pillow from behind his head and beat Sorey over the head with it. Sorey repaid him by sucking hard, enveloping his cock down to the base in his mouth. Mikleo gasped for air and dropped his weapon. “Oh God, that's—Sorey, oh...”

Sorey tasted it before he realized Mikleo had finished. Mikleo curled up, arcing his back towards the ceiling, until he was spent. Then he crashed back into the bed panting.

Sorey wiped his mouth. “Are we even now?”

“That's,” he said, catching his breath, “how it always is, isn't it?”

Sorey used the cloth one more time to clean them both up. This time Mikleo watched him do it, eyes half-lidded, a little smile on his face. Sorey tossed the cloth aside and joined him in the bed, pulling a blanket over them both. He kissed Mikleo's face, on his forehead and then both cheeks. They wrapped around each other and huddled in each other's warmth, both in afterglow, their bodies mushed together without the barrier of cloth.  The weariness he'd been feeling before began to creep up again, but he didn't want to close his eyes and sleep through the best part.   

“It's not a contest,” Sorey said. Now his voice was not toying or teasing. “It's my love, you know?”

Mikleo pressed his head against Sorey's with a tsk. “I know that.”

“Luzrov Rulay, and Shepard Sorey, slept until the light of day.”

“You've really got to shut up.”


End file.
